


Internal Dialogue

by Fragged



Category: Stargate Universe
Genre: M/M, Slightly dubcon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-13
Updated: 2014-12-13
Packaged: 2018-03-01 02:17:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2755865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fragged/pseuds/Fragged
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As it turns out, Young could do with some release.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Internal Dialogue

**Author's Note:**

> [Set directly after 1x17: Pain]

Every day on Destiny was exhausting. Today was not an exception. 

Young had _just_ sat down on his bed when the door chimed. Without further warning, Rush stormed inside and closed the door behind him.

“What can I do for you, Rush?” His voice sounded tired, and came out drier than he'd intended. 

“Oh, I think you know why I'm here,” Rush answered. “We have unfinished business.”

Young sighed and rubbed his hand over his face. “And what might that be?” 

Rush folded his arms in front of his chest and gripped his elbows tightly, his body language betraying a barely contained rage. “You left me for dead on that planet.”

Young was quiet for a moment. Not now. Not now that things were finally getting better between them. “I know,” he said, weary regret tingeing his voice. “Look, I know-”

“You left me there to _die_ ,” Rush interrupted him, voice morphing into a shout as his agitation grew. “But instead _they_ found me, and you have _no idea_ what they did to me, and then you opened up my chest to get that tracker out _while we were under attack_!” 

“I had no choice, Rush! If we'd left that tracker in they would have found us as soon as we dropped out of FTL again. The ship couldn't handle another attack like that, and you know it.” He tried for reasonable, but his voice came out sounding accusatory. His grasp on the seething anger inside him was tenuous at best, but he held onto it with everything he had.

“Yes, of course, you couldn't have cut me open while we were in FTL and everything was calm and I wouldn't have _woken up_ in the middle of my own fucking surgery!” 

It wasn't news to Young that Rush had awoken during the removal of the transmitter, but he still had to hide an inward wince at the thought. 

“Maybe I could have, if you hadn't lied about it in the first place!” Young's voice grew louder. “If you hadn't staged a damn coup just so you could, what, distract me? It was a command decision and I stand by it!”

Rush let out a disbelieving laugh, cold and furious. “And you wonder why I don't come to you when something's happening. How can I trust a man who doesn't have the capability to apply even the smallest amount of common sense to any problem? You make one mistake after another and you expect us to follow you? To _trust_ you?! You're not fit to be our leader. You're not fit to lead _anyone_!” 

“You have no right to talk to me like that.” Young's voice was low and artificially calm as he stood up to face the man in front of him. His blood was boiling. It was insane how fast Rush could get under his skin, how easily that deep-seated rage was pulled forward by him.

“You _killed_ me, and then you tried to _kill me again_!” Rush burst out loudly, stepping right up into Young's face. 

“Shut the hell up, Rush!” Young shouted at the man in front of him, as his arms shot out to grab Rush's shoulders. To keep him still or to push him away, he wasn't sure.

To his surprise, Rush did shut up. The silence hung heavily in the air, and Young could hear his own blood rushing through his veins to the elevated beat of his heart. When he could finally focus his gaze on Rush, he saw the other man was slightly out of breath and wouldn't meet his eyes. 

“Go to hell,” Rush croaked at him. Then he looked up into Young's eyes darkly, and said, “Or make me, you bloody coward.” 

Young felt his grip on the other man's shoulders tighten. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” he asked, trying and failing to keep his voice completely even. 

“You know what it means, _Colonel_ ,” Rush sneered at him, loading the word with more contempt than Young had ever heard. 

There was no reason why that should affect him the way it did, but Young felt his heartbeat spike and his control slip. “Get on your knees,” he growled, adjusting his grip to push down on Rush's shoulders. 

Rush resisted the pressure and spit a “Fuck you!” at him, but Young was stronger. When Rush's knees buckled they knocked into the deck with an audible clang. 

Young felt delirious, like he wasn't in control of his own body. He felt drunk, aggressive, heated. With his right hand he opened up the top button of his standard issue pants, while his left hand carded through Rush's hair possessively. “You know what's going to happen next,” he heard himself say to the other man. 

Rush yanked his head sideways, but kept his fists clenched on top of his knees. “Go fuck yourself.” 

“No,” Young answered dangerously, as he tightened the fist in Rush's hair and forced his face closer. “Not if I have you here.” 

Rush glowered at Young, and then lowered his gaze to watch the other man flick open the rest of the buttons and take himself out. The expression on Rush's face was scandalized, intensely focused, and Young felt his breath hitch at the intensity of the moment.

His cock was hard and just inches away from Rush's face. Young gave it a few short strokes and then guided it to the man's mouth. “Open up. Suck it,” he commanded. 

Rush clenched his fists tighter in the fabric of his own pants, but opened his mouth and leaned forward. 

It was amazing. Young felt his eyes close at the sensation of Rush's mouth on him, of the wet heat he was entering. But even that was nothing compared to the rush of power he got from the other man _yielding_ to him. Finally, _finally_ giving in to him. 

“Yeah, that's it,” he murmured as Rush sucked him deeper into his mouth. His tongue was everywhere, moving along his shaft before keenly flicking over his sensitive tip. Of course he'd be a goddamn genius at giving head too. Young held back a groan as Rush slowly acquainted himself with his cock. 

Suddenly Rush's hands were on his hips and he was shoved backwards. He fell onto his bed, not overly gracefully, but before he had time to sit up Rush was on him again, mouth closing over his dick. This was more intense, there was suction and movement and the same kind of bullheaded determination Rush applied to working out his equations and formulae. 

He hadn't been prepared for the unexpected feeling of Rush's scruffy beard against his skin. Somehow that was what made him realize how unbearably intimate this was, how he couldn't deny this was _Rush_ sucking him off. Young's hips snapped upwards before he could stop himself and Rush moaned around him, the vibrations traveling all the way up Young's spine. 

“Jesus, Rush,” Young said breathlessly. He threw his head back and slung both arms over his eyes. 

The other man was kneeling in the space between his legs and it had to be uncomfortable to be on his knees on that metal deck, but then Rush never really seemed to care about any signs of physical distress his body sent him so maybe he didn't even notice and God, he was going to come embarrassingly fast if Rush kept going like that. 

Slowly, sucking so hard that it bordered on painful, Rush moved back up his cock. When he had just the tip in his mouth, he tongued it extensively, carefully fluttering against the ridge where the head met the shaft. Young couldn't contain a groan at the feeling, and he raised his face from under his arms to look at Rush. All of a sudden the suction and the tongue and the warmth retreated, and Rush was looking him in the eye. 

“Ask me,” he said. His voice was gravelly and his lips looked dark and shiny with spit. Young felt his cock pulse at the sight. “Come on, ask me.” 

Young felt lightheaded, like he wasn't really there, and for a moment he had no idea what Rush meant. Then it hit him like a thunder stroke. 'Forgive me,' he wanted to ask. 

“Say you forgive me,” he ordered, voice broken. “Say it.” 

Rush licked a stripe up from where the base of his dick was peeking out of his uniform all the way to the tip, and leaned his lips against it. “Yes, Colonel,” he murmured. “I understand why you did it. I told you, I provoked you. I forgive you.” Young could feel Rush's mouth moving against his glans, and something in his chest seemed to snap back into place. 

When Rush opened up for him again Young knew he would be done soon. Winding one of his hands in Rush's hair, he could feel another breathless sound forming in his throat. With this hand he could control the rhythm, the depth... he could choke Rush, force him to swallow his come, make him do exactly what he wanted him to do-- _Fuck!_

Young felt himself hurtling over the edge, losing control of his body at the thought of having this much power over Rush. In the end he merely clenched his hand in Rush's hair as he came, not forcing the other man's movement one way or the other. His orgasm felt like release, like letting go of something that had been eating away at him for a long time, and Young exhaled shakily as he let his head fall back against the mattress. 

His eyes were closed, but he felt Rush pull off. Heard him spitting on the ground. In the back of his mind he regretted not forcing Rush to swallow, and then immediately felt guilty for thinking it.

From beneath his eyelashes Young saw Rush getting up and stepping to the door. 

“Rush,” he called softly, not sure how he was going to continue. The man stopped, his hand hanging still in front of the door control. “Uh, if you... Thanks. I mean-” 

“Right. Yes. Fine,” Rush cut in. “Goodnight then.” And without saying anything else, he was out of the room. 

Young was overcome by a wave of exhaustion. 

“Yeah, okay,” he mumbled to the empty room, as he drifted off to sleep. 

–

It took him longer than it should have to realize what was going on. 

When he passed Rush in the mess the next morning, the scientist ignored him until Young wished him a good morning. Without looking back Rush threw a weary “Yes. Morning, Colonel,” over his shoulder and continued on to the control interface room. 

When he tried to bring it up subtly while they were alone in the control interface room for a few minutes, Rush looked at him like he was mentally unstable and then returned to their previous topic of the faulty oxygen regulator in one of the space suits. 

An hour later, when Young had a much needed moment to himself in his quarters, Rush barged in and started a fight almost immediately. As soon as Young lost his temper Rush whirled around and challenged him again. To make things physical, to push him, to get Rush to _yield_ again. And it made him dizzy with anger. With a desire to dominate, to make Rush bend to his will. 

Young could feel his state of mind slipping, his thoughts turning aggressive and hazy just like the night before, and before he realized what he was doing he had Rush pinned against the wall. Their faces mere inches apart. 

He pushed his leg between the other man's and growled, “You don't want to pick this fight with me, Rush.” 

He could feel Rush's erection against his thigh and he moved his leg closer menacingly. One of his hands slipped down to make quick work of the man's pants. Young dexterously slid his fingers over Rush's cock, then gripped it loosely by the base. 

Rush was breathing heavily now, small puffs of warm air against Young's cheek. “You said you understood, that you forgave me,” Young said, voice dark and low. “So, say it.” 

Rush turned his head further to the side and pushed himself back into the wall to create maybe half an inch more space between his face and Young's. He kept quiet. 

Young moved closer again, and without warning bit Rush on the jaw. The scientist let out a surprised sound and inhaled shakily. Young moved away and then aimed for Rush's mouth. 

The kiss was aggressive, teeth scraping and biting, as much a fight as anything between them ever was. 

Rush was rock hard in Young's hand. As he started moving his fist up and down the dry friction quickly derailed Rush's ability to participate in the kiss. His head fell back against the metal wall and he squeezed his eyes shut tightly. When Young moved in to suck and bite at his exposed neck, Rush let out a needy, breathy sound that went straight to Young's dick. 

“Yeah, you like that,” Young said to him, his own voice wrecked. “Now say it.” 

Rush moaned as Young placed his mouth directly on top of his Adam's apple. The vibrations against his lips made Young want to use his teeth. To see how far he could go, how hard Rush would let him bite before trying to push him off. He kept himself in check, though. Barely. 

“I like it,” Rush breathed out, sounding completely out of it. 

Young growled against the side of Rush's neck and stopped jerking his cock. “You know that's not what I meant.” 

Rush whined, pushing his hips forward into Young's stilled hand. Young squeezed dangerously. 

“Yesss,” Rush hissed out as he bucked his hips. “Fuck, I forgive you, I forgive you, it wasn't your fault, _fuck_!” he babbled, as Young started up his pace again. Young bit and sucked at his neck with an overwhelming sense of relief coursing through his veins. It took only a short while for Rush to climax, spilling over Young's hand and the thigh of his uniform. 

Trembling, Rush slid down the wall until he was sitting on the floor, knees folded beneath him. 

Young felt elated, his hands fumbling to get his pants open, to free his erection. His one arm supported his head against the wall. His other hand, coated in Rush's come, moved over his own cock in urgent strokes. He knew he was too close for this to last long. 

From his spot on the floor, Rush looked up at him and angled his face towards his cock. As if he was inviting him to... to-- _Christ_! Young couldn't suppress a long groan as his orgasm was pulled out of him. He looked on to see his come stripe across Rush's cheek, see it hitting his hair, his lips, his beard. The obscenity of releasing himself all over Rush forced an overwhelming aftershock through his entire body, and he squeezed his eyes shut as he rode it out. 

When Young came back to his senses Rush had extricated himself from between him and the wall and was standing a few steps away. It seemed he had already cleaned his face with the sleeve of his shirt. Young tiredly tucked himself away and zipped up. Rush watched him calmly.

“You have nothing to feel guilty about, Colonel,” he said earnestly. Then he turned around and exited the room. 

Young felt that mixture of relief and exhaustion crash over him again, and barely made it to his bed before he fell into unconsciousness. 

– 

The tinny sound of Scott's voice over the radio woke Young up some thirty minutes later. 

_“Colonel Young, this is Scott. We've dropped out of FTL and you're needed in the gateroom. Over.”_

Young groaned, rolled out of bed, and picked up his radio. “I'm on my way, Lieutenant.”

He was halfway to the gateroom when he realized he was still wearing the same uniform Rush had ejaculated on. 

When he stopped to examine how noticeable the stain was, he couldn't find anything. 

–

“We have two planets in range, one with an active gate,” Scott informed him. “The gated one shows signs of intelligent life, although we can't know for sure if anyone's still there until we get to the planet.” 

Rush was there, working one of the consoles to scan for additional information on the planet. From just looking at him Young would never have guessed that only half an hour ago there had been come on his face, in his hair, everywhere. _His_ come. 

Rush shot him a quick look from the corner of his eye as Young told Scott to prepare two teams to check out the accessible planet. 

When Scott had left to put together his exploration crew, Young stepped up to Rush. “So,” he started uncomfortably. “I'm guessing you don't want to talk about it?” 

Rush looked away from his monitor and cocked his head at Young. “Although I have absolutely no idea to what exactly you're referring, I think it's safe to say that no, I probably don't want to talk about it.” 

Young knew Rush was one hell of a liar, but the man was convincing. Just the right amount of sarcasm, confusion, and dismissal to give the genuine impression that he had no idea what Young was going on about. 

Suddenly, a wave of nausea and dizziness washed over Young. He grabbed the edge of the console in order to stay standing, and had to fight with all he had to keep his knees from buckling. 

“Colonel Young?” Rush asked warily. “You don't look well, perhaps you should stop by the infirmary.” 

Young waved him away with the hand he wasn't using to squeeze his temples. “I'm fine. Just tired.” 

Rush gave him a strange look. “Have you been hallucinating?” 

And _that's_ when Young realized.

– 

“I can't believe we missed it. We checked everyone,” Tamara said as she prepared the venom and the tools to extract Young's tick. 

“We don't know how long they can survive without a host, maybe there are still more hanging around the ship,” Young answered, lowering his head to give her better access. “It's probably safest to keep checking people every day for the next few weeks, in case more of them are planning to hitch a ride.” 

TJ nodded as she pulled the anesthetized tick out. 

“So...what did you see?” she asked in a quiet voice, still not sure if she was overstepping some invisible boundary between them. 

Young shrugged and studied the cabinet she used for surgical equipment. “Just someone I...” he looked her in the eye and then averted his gaze again. “Someone I wished I could've gotten along with better, I suppose.”

She could've sworn there was guilt in his voice. 

–

Young was back in his quarters. It had been another long day. 

His door chimed, and Rush stepped inside. Young schooled his expression into blankness, forced himself not to brush his fingers over the back of his neck to make sure he was still tick-free. 

“Rush?” he prompted, when the other man just stood there. Rush's eyes snapped up to his own, and for a moment all Young could see was his upturned face when he... Shit, not good. 

“It seems I've been busy,” Rush said after a beat of silence. 

_He knows_ , shot through Young's thoughts in a panicky flash. But Rush couldn't know. He couldn't.

“What do you mean?” Young heard himself ask.

“You know what I mean, Colonel,” Rush said pointedly. The words echoed in Young's mind. 

When he didn't answer, Rush continued. “What did I do, in your hallucinations?” 

Young looked up sharply. “How did you know?” 

He could tell Rush only barely contained an eye roll. “It was hardly subtle.” 

Young looked to the side, trying to figure out how to maneuver through this minefield of a conversation. 

Rush appeared intent on waiting him out, arms crossed over his chest. 

“We fought,” Young admitted, picking his words carefully. 

Rush looked unsurprised. “We got physical. There's precedent,” he stated matter-of-factly. There seemed to be an amused undercurrent to his words. 

Young tried not to let anything show on his face. They got physical, alright. 

He wasn't sure he should say what he was going to say next. It felt too personal. The kind of thing Rush would turn into ammunition at his earliest convenience. 

“We... worked things out,” Young settled on. 

Rush's eyes flicked up to Young's. He looked taken aback by the words. 

“What?” he asked, unsure what Rush's reaction meant. 

The other man averted his gaze and shrugged. “Nothing. I'd expected the fighting,” he said. “The reconciliating surprised me a little.” 

The silence that followed was uncomfortable. 

“Right,” Young uttered finally. 

Abruptly, Rush stepped back to the door. 

“Wait,” Young said, an irrational part of him wanting to keep Rush from leaving. “Why did that surprise you?”

Rush turned around and stopped, hand hovering over the control panel. “You know that the hallucinations were intended to elicit the strongest emotional responses,” he said over his shoulder. He disappeared through the door before Young could react. 

Young sat down on his bed and scrubbed a hand over his face. 

Yeah, he knew.


End file.
